Mistakes Were Made
by PhantomLoverG
Summary: My first POTO fic. Be easy on me please ] Christine wants Erik back but Erik only has revenge on his mind and how Raoul comes into his plan is rather interesting. Fake Slash. Death. EC sort of.


**Part 1.**

'Masquerade. . ' The man in the mask sobbed as barley whispered his lonely song, embracing the abandonment. He could bare it no longer. Even though her eyes were still gleaming at him, a whirlpool of indescribable beauty, he was not connected in the same way as before. Besides, it was only paint. She had chosen him – the sissy with the hair. The lone figure glanced his head upward, away from the musical monkey placed on the red shag. He looked lost, up at the deep purple heavy material flung carelessly where a mirror had once been. Was the man hiding from the mirror – or the mirror hiding from the abomination of nature that haunted this damned place? The abomination of the Phantom.

Stumbling slightly, Phantom walked towards the veil, which protects him from the truth. He had to remind himself of the reason why he and the love of his life could never be, whether he liked it or not. Tearing back the cloak, his eyes burned. Staring back at the man was a reflection, but a reflection that was not himself. Yet, it clung to him like a never dying disease, it was so much like the noose that had murdered his victims so passionately. Like the rope, it entwined on his skin, it had killed it and there it lay above. But it lay, refusing to clean off.

"Let's not argue. . . "

"Do not even try singing at me right now! It may have worked once but not this time Raoul!"

Christine and Raoul, very much once the happy couple. Childhood sweethearts destined to be. Alas, after just a few years of marriage all the arguments had gotten worse and worse. All the singing in the world could not solve this young couple's trivial quarrels. Was it a second, a minute, an hour that silence had hung in the air? Cold, icy stares where the only thing the lovers connected with these days. It was all becoming so routine: Argue, shout, scream, Christine would cry, Raoul would storm out to drink, return home drunk and it would all start again.

"You are not the Raoul I fell in love with – you are not half the man he was. That man that rode bare back on his white steed to come and save me from . . . "

Christine had not thought about that incident in a long time attempting to put it behind her. Raoul sensed her fears and was very tempted to take his frail damsel into his arms to serenade her that everything would be alright; he would protect her just like the last time. However, as he advanced forward the brunette winced then took a sharp step backwards. Now the light from the fireplace that was ablaze caught her natural beauty. But, more importantly it caught the sadness of a young girl in her eyes. Raoul knew it. She was thinking of a man. She was always thinking of him. It was not the man who had put a ring on her finger but the being that had awoken something within her that resembled the closest nirvana on earth. Married life with Raoul has slowly trampled that nirvana, set it on fire to become the desolate wasteland much like her life was becoming.

She did not want to be near him. If she knew it wouldn't kill her, she probably would have refrained from breathing to same air as him.

Despite the fact that he looked it – Raoul was not completely stupid.

"He killed two people Christine, he tried to kill that entire theatre audience by bringing down that blasted Chandelier and Christine if you remember, he tried to kill me on more than one occasion. Yet you are still so entranced by him. Do not deny it, I hear you speak his name in your sleep, I see it in your eyes always. Thinking, almost longing. Christine, He kidnapped you and god knows what he would have done to you down in the dungeon if I hadn't of rescued you!"

"Raoul don't be rediculous." Christine smiled nervously.

"Stop! I am not a fool! I see it. I know!" Raoul raised his voice, but he did not scream. The dread that all his suspicions were confirmed overweighed his anger. Christine could only stand in shock. It was the power behind the simply he had accused her.

She couldn't describe the reason for her silence – was it that she thought her lies would not be convincing or was it that she didn't want to deny her feelings for that masked creature who once had her under his spell? That music, his voice had never truly left her mind.

Her long hesitation was just what Raoul needed to be tipped over the edge.

"Why didn't you marry him Christine? Your obsession with him is just as clear as how our marriage was a mistake."

"Fine! Maybe I should have!" screeched Christine in retort. Her white nightgown danced like snow gracefully, much in contrast of how Christine had angrily stomped out of the room. This was very much out of character from her usual lady like behavior.

Consumed in anger was what Raoul put the act behind. He could have sworn that after Christine had screamed, he had heard a gasp. Perhaps her rage had shocked him. Before heading down to the Alehouse Raoul peered round the room. He stared at the intricate portrait above the fireplace. It was Christine and himself. How they had loved that portrait, every smear of blue, dollop of red and whisper of royal purple. It captured the love the couple once had. In it, Christine's eyes seemed so alive. Sighing, Raoul wished those eyes were the same in his wife now. Putting wishful thinking to the back of his mind, Raoul made a dramatic leave, his cape swishing behind him. Little did he know how alive those eyes were. Behind the layers of the wall the Phantom stood. His eyes straining through holes of the onlooking painting. He had witnessed the whole argument, a curled smile on his face. This was his chance.


End file.
